


Hey Good Lookin’

by BoStarsky



Series: Soft Bois [6]
Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Flip has a celeb crush, M/M, Ron is a worry wart sometimes, Ron is low key concerned, The soft bois grow closer, beauty is not a white thing despite what America thinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 10:03:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16830427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: Flip has a crush on Clint Eastwood and Ron can’t blame him for that. The Man With no Name is a lot of things Ron isn’t, he’s tall, rugged and mean, quick on the trigger, and white. He’s the man everyone wants, just like Burt Reynolds, and Robert Redford and every other white man who can pull of a squint or a charming smile. Very few people look like Ron in the Hollywood fantasy.





	Hey Good Lookin’

**Author's Note:**

> This is for AtlinMerrick I hope this fits what you wanted :)
> 
> And I should say, I’m white as hell so I can’t claim to know anything about Ron’s situation beyond what’s on the surface and I hope I didn’t get it horribly wrong. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @BoStarsky

Flip has a crush on Clint Eastwood and Ron can’t blame him for that. The Man With no Name is a lot of things Ron isn’t, he’s tall, rugged and mean, quick on the trigger, and white. He’s the man everyone wants, just like Burt Reynolds, and Robert Redford and every other white man who can pull of a squint or a charming smile. Very few people look like Ron in the Hollywood fantasy. 

It’s not like he’s worried Dirty Harry is going to show up at their door to whisk Flip away from him, but he can’t help being a little jealous of the way Flip moons at Mr. Eastwood whenever they run those old spaghetti westerns on the tv. Can’t help, but be a little scared that deep down he isn’t what Flip wants, that he’d be exchanged for a white man should one offer himself up. 

Black people aren’t beautiful according to America, those old ideals of blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin that were never correct in the first place so deeply ingrained that they’ll take decades to dig out. When you’re on the other side of that fence it’s difficult not to notice the lack of dark skin in the ranks of those “beautiful” people. He won’t deny that Clint Eastwood is a handsome man, but would Flip still think so if he happened to be black? Would he even have noticed Ron if he hadn’t walked up and kissed him. 

Ron wouldn’t change how he looks for the world, he’s proud to be black, proud of what he’s achieved despite the opposition and he’s going to keep achieving new things. People like the KKK can fight against him all they like, shout it from the rooftops that their band of inbred zealots are superior when they should know better. He won’t listen, they can shout until their throats are raw and burn as many damn sticks as they like while hiding beneath their bed sheets, Ron won’t listen because he does know better. He won’t pretend it doesn’t hurt, it hurts deep into his soul that the world is like this. 

He’s tried not to think too hard about it his whole life, but it’s difficult not to when everywhere he goes all he sees is white faces and not all of them friendly. 

Sometimes he wonders why Flip has stayed with him so long. Ron thinks he should ask, but there is no way of asking “do you think I’m pretty,” without sounding like an insecure teenage girl, or “why haven’t we had sex yet,” without sounding pushy. He doesn’t want to sound like either of those things. 

He starts thinking about it a lot more often after that.

Beauty is a white thing and he’s noticing it more than ever now that he has his own beautiful white boy who pretends to be interested when the other guys croon about Dolly Parton’s new rack or whoever is in this months Playboy. He himself can’t even be bothered join in on it, he knows what he likes and it’s best not to give them any fodder by admitting he thinks a white woman is attractive. 

Would Flip say those things about him if they could be open about it? Would he brag about Ron to his buddies?

This thing of theirs has to stay secret, he understands that, it’s for their own safety, and he’s okay with it so long as he gets to sleep next to the man he loves every night. It doesn’t stop him from wishing that just once he could flirt openly and shamelessly without getting them both fired and shunned by society, that he could kiss Flip when they both end up at the coffee pot at the same time. If nothing else he can get away with making both their lunches now that they live together. 

Ron never imagined himself as a housewife, but when you live with a man who thinks ketchup counts as a vegetable you do what you must. It seems the only thing Flip can’t do decently is cook and Ron’s never been all that good at laundry so they compliment each other well. Together they make one whole housewife and that’s pretty good by his account. 

This is why it’s strange when Flip takes off before he does one morning claiming he has an errand to run. Paranoia sets in immediately, what if he’s been replaced by some Clint Eastwood type cowboy or some soft, pretty, white thing. Even if he has there’s nothing to be done about it and he refuses to be one of those partners that throw away trust for the sake of unfounded jealousy. So he eats his eggs and burnt toast with only Itsy for company and tries not to overthink it. 

It’s almost strange arriving at work alone he’s gotten so used to Flip lumbering along beside him that his side feels bare, like he’s forgotten something at home. Waving to the receptionist like he always does he makes his way to the bullpen and his desk that looks the same as it always has. He’s only just started on his endless paperwork when Flip arrives bringing with him the clean scent of snow overlaid by cigarette smoke and fresh coffee. 

A steaming, styrofoam cup finds its way under Ron’s nose by way of Flip, but what really catches his eye is the writing on the side in that sloping scrawl he’s become so familiar with. ‘Good morning, beautiful’ it says and something inside Ron breaks just a little, just enough. God damn Flip for doing this to him here where he can’t kiss the fool. 

“I heard you talking to your mom,” sometimes Ron forgets that he’s not living alone anymore too, last night a good example. He’d stayed up in the kitchen talking out his frustrations over the phone, his mama can’t ever know he was fretting over a man, but she gives the best advice of anyone he knows. Who better to ask when he’s losing his own confidence in something this important. “And you’re wrong, I’d choose you over Clint Eastwood any day,” Flip whispers while introducing Ron’s desk to a cardboard pastry box from the bakery a few blocks over. Inside he finds a glazed chocolate donut and another note, ‘chocolate is better than vanilla’ this time Ron laughs. 

Tucking the note into his pocket he stands and gestures for Flip to follow, “I want to show you something,” is the excuse he uses, it’s weak, but it’ll have to do. 

They end up in that basement office where they first met, where he got his first eyeful of the pretty, white boy that would steal his heart a few months down the line. It’s almost like they’ve come full circle. He wants so badly to suck a bruise into that pale neck and knowing that he can’t is frustrating so he takes it out on that soft mouth instead. 

This might just be the most dangerous thing they’ve done since they started this. It’s a risk worth taking. They can’t do this for long before someone comes looking or needs the room, but just for a little while they can stay leaned up against this door with no lock and pretend that the world is a better place, a place where they don’t have to hide. Pretend that if someone walked in on this they could laugh it off and be on their way. 

It’ll be a long time before that becomes reality, if ever, but for now they can pretend that it is.


End file.
